Hungry as the Sea (48 page)

“In her present design and construction, she is not safe to carry even regular crude petroleum oil,” Nicholas said. “However, she will be employed in the carriage of crude oil that has been contaminated by cadmium sulphide in such concentrations as to make it one of the more toxic substances in nature.”

“Your first statement, Mr. Berg, does anyone else share your doubts as to the safety of her design?”

“She does not carry the Al rating by the marine inspectors of Lloyd’s of London,” said Nicholas.

“Now can you tell us about the cargo she will carry – the so-called cad-rich crudes?”

Nicholas knew he had perhaps fifteen seconds to draw a verbal picture of the Atlantic Ocean turned into a sterile poisoned desert; it was too short a time, and twice Duncan Alexander interjected, skilfully breaking up the logic of Nicholas presentation and before he had finished, the anchor-man glanced at his watch and cut him short.

“Thank you, Mr. Berg. Now Mr. Kemp is a director of the oil company.”

“My company, Orient Amex, last year allocated the sum of two million U. S. dollars as grants to assist in the scientific study of world environmental problems. I can tell you folks, right now, that we at Orient Amex are very conscious of the problems of modern technology.” He was projecting the oil-company image, the benefactors of all humanity.

“Your company’s profit last year, after taxation, was four hundred and twenty-five million dollars,” Nicholas cut in clearly. “That makes point four seven percent on environmental research – all of it tax deductible. Congratulations, Mr. Kemp.”

The oil man looked pained and went on: “Now we at Orient Amex, plugging the company name again neatly, are working towards a better quality of life for all peoples. But we do realize that it is impossible to put back the clock a hundred years. We cannot allow ourselves to be blinded by the romantic wishful thinking of amateur environmentalists, the weekend scientists and the doom-criers who –”

“Cry Torrey Canyon,” Nicholas suggested helpfully, and the oil man suppressed a shudder and went on quickly. “who would have us discontinue such research as the revolutionary cadmium cracking process, which could extend the world’s utilization of fossil fuels by a staggering forty percent and give the world’s oil reserves an extended life of twenty years or more.” Again the anchor-man glanced at his watch, cut the oil off in mid-flow and switched his attention to Duncan Alexander.

“Mr. Alexander, your so-called ultra-tanker will carry the cad-rich crudes. How would you reply to Mr. Berg?” Duncan smiled, a deep secret smile. When Mr. Berg had my job as head of Christy Marine, the
Golden Dawn
was the best idea in the world. Since he was fired, it’s suddenly the worst. They laughed, even one of the cameramen out beyond the lights guffawed uncontrollably, and Nicholas felt the hot red rush of his anger.

“Is the
Golden Dawn
rated Al at Lloyd’s?” asked the anchor-man.

“Christy Marine has not applied for a Lloyd’s listing, we arranged our insurance in other markets.”

Even through his anger Nicholas had to concede how good he was, he had a mind like quicksilver.

“How safe is your ship, Mr. Alexander?”

Now Duncan turned his head and looked directly across the table at Nicholas. “I believe she is as safe as the world’s leading marine architects and naval engineers can make her.” He paused, and there was a malevolent gleam in his eyes now, “So safe, that I have decided to end this ridiculous controversy by a display of my personal confidence.”

“What form will this show of faith take, Mr. Alexander?” The anchor-man sensed the sensational line for which he had been groping and he leaned forward eagerly.

“On
Golden Dawn’s
maiden voyage, when she returns from the Persian Gulf fully laden with the El Barras crudes, I and my family, my wife and my step-son, will travel aboard her for the final six thousand miles of her voyage from Cape Town on the Cape of Good Hope to Galveston in the Gulf of Mexico.” As Nicholas gaped at him wordlessly, he went on evenly, “That’s how convinced I am that
Golden Dawn
is capable of performing her task in perfect safety.”

“Thank you.” The anchor-man recognized a good exit line, when he heard one. “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.” you have convinced me – and I am sure many of our viewers. We are now crossing to Washington via satellite where –”

The moment the red in use light flickered out on the television camera, Nicholas was on his feet and facing the real Duncan Alexander. His anger was fanned by the realization that Duncan had easily grandstanded him with that adroit display of showmanship, and by the stabbing anxiety at the threat to take Peter aboard Golden Down on her hazardous maiden voyage.

“You’re not taking Peter on that death trap of yours,” he snapped.

“That’s his mother’s decision,” said Duncan evenly. As the daughter of Arthur Christy, she’s decided to give the company her full support, he emphasized the word full.

“I won’t let either of you endanger my son’s life for a wild public-relations stunt.”

“I’m sure you will try to prevent it, Duncan nodded and smiled, and I’m sure your efforts will be as ineffectual as your attempts to stop
Golden Dawn
.”

He deliberately turned his back on Nicholas and spoke to the oil man. I do think that went off rather well, he said, don’t you?

Chapter 39

James Teacher gave a graphic demonstration of why he could charge the highest fees in London and still have his desk piled high with important briefs. He had Nicholas’ urgent application before a Judge-in-Chambers within seventy hours, petitioning for a writ to restrain Chantelle Alexander from allowing the son of their former marriage, one Peter Nicholas Berg, aged twelve years, to accompany her on an intended voyage from Cape Town in the Republic of South Africa to Galveston in the state of Texas aboard the bulk crude-carrier
Golden Dawn
, and/or to prevent the said Chantelle Alexander from allowing the child to undertake any other voyage aboard the said vessel.

The judge heard the petition during a recess in the criminal trial of a young post-office worker standing accused of multiple rape. The judge’s oak-panelled book-lined chambers were overcrowded by the two parties, their lawyers, the judge’s registrar and the considerable bulk of the judge himself. Still in his wig and robes from the public court, the judge read swiftly through the written submission of both sides, listened attentively to James Teacher’s short address and the rebuttal by his opposite number, before turning sternly to Chantelle.

“Mrs. Alexander.” The stern expression wavered slightly as he looked upon the devastating beauty which sat demurely before him. “Do you love your son more than anything else in this life.” Chantelle looked at him steadily out of those vast dark eyes, “And you are happy to take him on this journey with you?”

“I am the daughter of a sailor, if there was danger I would understand it. I am happy to go myself and take my son with me.” The judge nodded, looked down at the papers on his desk for a moment.

“As I understand the circumstances, Mr. Teacher, it is common ground that the mother has custody?”

“That is so, my lord. But the father is the child’s guardian.”

“I’m fully aware of that, thank you,” he snapped acidly.

He paused again before resuming in the measured tones of judgement. “We are concerned here exclusively with the welfare and safety of the child. It has been shown that the proposed journey will be made during the holidays and that no loss of schooling will result. On the other hand, I do not believe that the petitioner has shown that there exists reasonable doubts about the safety of the vessel on which the voyage will be made. It seems to be a modern and sophisticated ship. To grant the petition would, in my view, be placing unreasonable restraint on the child’s mother.” He swivelled in his chair to face Nicholas and James Teacher. “I regret, therefore, that I see insufficient grounds to accede to your petition.”

In the back seat of James Teacher’s Bentley, the little lawyer murmured apologetically. “He was right, of course, Nicholas. I would have done the same in his place. These domestic squabbles are always –”

Nicholas was not listening. “What would happen if I picked up Peter and took him to Bermuda or the States?”

“Abduct him?” James Teacher’s voice shot up an octave, and he caught Nicholas arm with genuine alarm. “I beg of you, dismiss the thought. They would have the police waiting for you.

“God! now he wriggled miserably in his seat. “I can’t bear to think of what might happen. Apart from getting you sent to gaol, your former wife might even get an order restraining you from seeing your boy again, she could get guardianship away from you. If you did that, you could lose the child, Nicholas. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it!” Now he patted nicholas arm ingratiatingly. “You’d be playing right into their hands.”

And then with relief he switched his attention to the briefcase on his lap. “Can we read through the latest draft of the agreement of sale again?” he asked, “We haven’t got much time, you know.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he began on the preamble to the agreement which would transfer all the assets and liabilities of Ocean Salvage and Towage to the directors of the Bank of the East, as nominees for parties unnamed.

Nicholas slumped in the far corner of the seat, and stared thoughtfully out of the window as the Bentley crawled in the traffic stream out of the Strand, around Trafalgar Square with it wheeling clouds of pigeons and milling throngs of tourists, swung into the Mall and accelerated down the long straight towards the Palace.

“I want you to stall them,” Nicholas said suddenly, and Teacher broke off in the middle of a sentence and stared at him distractedly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want you to find a way to stall the Sheikhs.”

“Good god, man.” James Teacher was utterly astounded.

“It’s taken me nearly a month – four hard weeks to get them ripe to sign,” his voice choked a little at the memory of the long hours of negotiation. “I’ve written every line of the agreement in my own blood.”

“I need to have control of my tugs, I need to be free to act.”

“Nicholas, we are talking about seven million dollars.”

“We are talking about my son,” said Nicholas quietly. “Can you stall them?”

“Yes, of course I can, if that’s what you truly want.” Wearily James Teacher closed the file on his lap. “How long?”

“Six weeks – long enough for
Golden Dawn
to finish her maiden voyage, one way or the other.”

“You realize that this may blow the whole deal, don’t you?”

“Yes, I realize that.”

“And you realize also that there isn’t another buyer?”

“Yes.”

They were silent then, until the Bentley pulled up before the Bank building in Curzon Street, and they stepped out on to the pavement “Are you absolutely certain?” Teacher asked softly.

“Just do it, Nicholas replied, and the doorman held the bronze and glass doors open for them.

Chapter 40

Bermuda asserted its calming influence over Nicholas the moment he stepped out of the aircraft into its comfortable warmth and clean, glittering sunlight. Bernard Wackie’s gorgeous burnt-honey-coloured secretary was there to welcome him. She wore a thin cotton dress the freshly cut pineapple and a flashing white smile.

“Mr. Wackie’s waiting for you at the Bank, sir.”

“Are you out of your mind, Nicholas?” Bernard greeted him. “Jimmy Teacher tells me you blew the Arabs out of the window. Tell me it’s not true, please tell me it’s not true.”

“Oh, come on, Bernard,” Nicholas shook his head and patted him consolingly on the shoulder, “your comission would only have been a lousy point seven million, anyway.”

“Then you did it!” Bernard wailed, and tried to pull his hand out of Nicholas’ grip. “You screwed it all up.”

“The Sheikhs have been screwing us up for over a month, Bernie baby. I just gave them a belt of the same medicine, and do you know what? They loved it. The Prince sat up and showed real interest for the first time. For the first time we were speaking the same language. They’ll still be around six weeks from now.”

“But why? I don’t understand. Just explain to me why you did it.”

“Let’s go into the plot, and I’ll explain it to you.” In the plot Nicholas stood over the perspex map of the oceans of the globe, and studied it carefully for fully five minutes without speaking.

“That’s Sea Witch’s latest position, she’s making good passage.” The green plastic disc that bore the tug’s number was set in mid-Atlantic.

“She reported two hours ago,” Bernie nodded, and then with professional interest, “How did her sea trials go off?”

“There were the usual wrinkles to iron out, that’s what kept me in St Nazaire so long. But we got them straight and Jules has fallen in love with her., He’s still the best skipper in the game.”

But already Nicholas’ attention had switched halfway across the world.

Warlock’s
still in Mauritius!” his voice snapped like a whip.

“I had to fly out a new armature for the main generator. It was just bad luck that she broke down in that God-forsaken part of the world.”

“When will she be ready for sea?”

“Allen promises noon tomorrow. Do you want to telex him for an update on that?”

“Later.” Nicholas wet the tip of a cheroot carefully, without taking his eyes off the plot, calculating distances and currents and speeds.

“
Golden Dawn
?” he asked, and lit the cheroot while he listened to Bernard’s reply.

“Her pod tanks arrived under tow at the new Orient Amex depot on El Barras three weeks ago.” Bernie picked Up the pointer and touched the upper bight of the deep Persian Gulf . “They took on their full cargoes of crude and lay inshore to await
Golden Dawn’s
arrival.”

For a moment, Nicholas contemplated the task of towing those four gigantic pod tanks from Japan to the Gulf, and then he discarded the thought and listened to Bernard.